


The Fork in the Road

by BobaAddict



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Multiple Universes Colliding, Murder Mystery, Resurrection, Second Chances, Serial Killers, Time Travel, inspired by boku dake ga inai machi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7133993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobaAddict/pseuds/BobaAddict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde were always the perfect pair, balancing each other out with their own respective quirks. But when an unexpected turn of events occurs, Nick is suddenly on his own, reliving the experiences of the past year and searching for where, just where, it all went wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue: numbness

It began when Chief Bogo put a fresh file on Judy and Nick’s shared desk, and when they opened it up, they were greeted with the sight of a tree squirrel laid out on the grassy ground. Her fur was wet, clinging to her body, and her eyes were half-lidded, with no indication of life in them. Nick remembered the way he and Judy simultaneously realized what this was, both pairs of eyes looking up at their superior with something akin to disconcertion.

“Your first murder case,” the chief said gruffly in response once he noticed them. “They found her in the Rainforest District early this morning. I want you both to work hard on solving this quickly -- I have a feeling the media is going to be keeping its eye on this one. I don’t want anyone to report that the ZPD isn’t doing a proper job with the case.”

The victim’s name was Amelia Nuttberg, a student at UZSS, or University of Zootopia, Sahara Square. A 19-year-old who was majoring in biochemistry, with dreams of eventually going into medical school and becoming a doctor. At least, until an unknown assailant strangled her to death.

“She was just beginning to go out and see the world,” Judy remarked sadly. “What kind of animal would cut her life short like that when her dream was to help people?” Of course she would say that. She was Judy, after all.

Nick’s response was a bit more cynical, something about how bad things could happen to the best of people. Something about how some simply didn’t care what kind of animal you were as long as you satisfied their own personal needs. He honestly didn’t recall the exact words he used, but there was one detail that he still remembered about that day, even months later.

It was March 9. Even if it wasn’t mentioned in the file, he would’ve remembered because it was Finnick’s birthday that day. He made a comment to the smaller fox later that day, about the odd works of irony.

After that, however, everything blurred together. Day after day, he and Judy dedicated their hours to attempts at solving Amelia’s murder. The pressure was constantly building, especially once they realized that putting the pieces together was a lot more difficult than they first anticipated. Of course, Bogo’s accurate prediction of the media wasn’t helping matters.

Then, 3 months later, on June 15, a second body was found, this time in Tundra Town. Buried underneath the snow was Robert Beavers, a 25-year-old bookkeeper who worked at some shop downtown.

“He shares a lot of traits with Amelia,” Bogo told Judy and Nick later that day. “He’s a small prey animal who’s been strangled. There’s no guarantee, but expect the worst. Both murders could’ve been committed by the same animal.”

 _Great,_ Nick thought to himself dryly. _As if this case wasn’t making me lose enough sleep already._

He didn’t dare say that out loud though. As much as this case was taking its toll on him, he wasn’t nearly as affected as Judy was. Although she would deny it whenever he asked, it was obvious to him that she was devoting all of her time, even when she wasn’t at work, to find a breakthrough in the case. It was evident in how exhausted she now was every morning, in contrast to how peppy she was previously. And that was when Amelia was the only victim. Now that Robert was too, she was definitely going to work herself even harder.

Nick tried to keep up with her, he really did. That was what partners were for -- they split the work evenly. And for a while, it did seem like that was what they were doing. That was, until the dark circles under Judy’s eyes were beginning to become visible. Soon after, it quickly became a regular occurrence for her to doze off during work.

It then became apparent to Nick that if she was getting sleep before Robert’s death, she certainly wasn't afterwards. Which meant that while he wasn't looking, she was taking on most of the work.

He confronted her about this. She denied it at first, but after he pressed on, she admitted to it with a degree of reluctance. “I won't do it anymore,” she ended up promising him. “I'll make sure our work loads are more even from now on.”

She kept to that promise. Gradually, she began to regain some of the energy she had before the murders, now that he was having a genuine effect on the investigation. _We eventually hit a breakthrough, arrested the murderer, and we have regular sleep schedules again,_ would’ve been the ideal ending that Nick was hoping for. But no, he had to remember that the world was much crueler than that.

Because single mom Holly Sheepster was found in a shallow grave in Sahara Square on November 29. And once the cause of death was revealed to be strangulation, it suddenly became so much more likely that whoever killed her also killed Robert and Amelia. Murders in Zootopia didn't occur often enough for the commonalities in the 3 crimes to be pure coincidences.

Much to Nick’s chagrin, Judy interpreted Holly’s death as her own fault, as the result of her not doing enough to prevent it from happening. Consequently, she once again began to shield most of the work from Nick.

He tried to talk to her about it again. The overall conversation was similar to the one last time, although there was one major difference -- Judy failed to listen this time around. “I can't ease up on my workload, Nick,” she said with finality in her voice. “I'm not letting this guy take away a fourth one.”

The usually witty and clever Nick Wilde suddenly found that he couldn't argue with her on that. It was true that they were in a race against time before the perp struck again. “At least let me keep up with you then,” he decided to say. “I don't want to be left out of the loop.”

She made copies of the notes she had jotted down on her own time and gave them to him. He was almost surprised at how much progress she was making behind everyone’s backs, but then again, this was Judy, and no one’s hard work paid off as well as Judy’s. He should be proud that he had such a dedicated partner.

What really sucked, though, was how overwhelming her notes were. She wrote down every detail -- every new clue, every interview, every animal of interest. Needless to say, it didn't take long for Nick to realize that he was going to need some time to absorb everything. But he needed to; he wasn't going to be that one guy who shoved all the work onto others. So every night, when he arrived home, he made it a habit to look through a few pages of her notes and organize them as best as he could.

He was still trying to make sense of them when the fateful night of December 10 came along. He had promised Finnick that he was going to accompany him to the bar -- nothing particularly out of the ordinary for the two of them. They enjoyed themselves, consuming a few drinks here and there, though Nick couldn't help but occasionally let his mind wander to Judy. She undoubtedly was working on the murder cases just like every other night, and though Nick wouldn't admit this to anyone, he did feel slightly guilty that he was having fun while she wasn't. But on the other hand, he did try to invite her to come with him, only for her to reject the offer.

_“Judy—” He had noticed the way her ears had perked up when she had heard him use her real name. “I know this case is important and all, but I think you really do need a break.”_

_“Nick, please,” she had sighed in return. “Just let me work on this. I'm so close to figuring out the truth, I can feel it.”_

_“This whole thing has changed you. You're not the same as you were 9 months ago.”_

_“I know that already,” Judy had snapped. Then another sigh. “I'm sorry. It's just that… You can understand why this case gets to me, can't you?”_

Of course he could. Because it got to him, too. He was just better at hiding it.

He left the conversation at that, and he went to join Finnick right afterwards. At the bar, he periodically checked his phone when he wasn't distracted by the noise and Finnick’s rambling, and around 1 in the morning, he received a text from Judy.

_“I think I hit something. Something big. I'll tell you about it in the morning.”_

He responded with a simple _“ok”_ and then resumed his focus on Finnick, who was now harassing a poor stranger with a passionately angry story about his ex-wife. Going home at about half past 2, he checked his phone again then. Judy hadn't responded. Nick dismissed it as her still busy with whatever breakthrough she had stumbled upon.

Things still seemed okay the next morning, when he got to the police station (despite the slight hangover he had). That was, until he noticed that Judy, who was the physical embodiment of punctuality and was always one of the first officers to arrive no matter the circumstances, wasn't there. A sick feeling began to rise up from the pit of his stomach, but he quickly squashed it. Maybe the fatigue of the past few months finally caught up to her, and she overslept. Yeah, that had to be it. She would check in late, Bogo would call her out, Nick would tease her for it, things would be fine.

Except that never happened. By the end of the day, even Bogo was less angry and more concerned, especially after Nick told him about her last text to him. Who would've thought that Judy Hopps would one day just miss out on her duty as a cop?

Nick looked at the text messages that he had been sending to her all day. All of them delivered. None of them read.

Judy failed to show up again the following day, and that was when the worries really became rampant. There was not one police officer who did not question what had possibly happened to her, and Clawhauser suggested contacting her family in case she was back in Bunnyburrow and forgot to notify the precinct. As unlikely as that was, Bogo agreed to do so.

Cue her entire family showing up to the station approximately 6 hours later, frantically bombarding the cheetah with questions pertaining to Judy’s disappearance. Nick figured it was safe to say that the rabbit was, in fact, not in her hometown.

After Bogo managed to convince her family that they would for sure find her before the holidays ended, they, with more than a bit of hesitance, went back home. That didn't stop her parents from calling them daily to ask for any updates, however.

The season for festivities was quickly coming and going, which usually meant cheeriness and relaxation, but the atmosphere in the station indicated anything but. All officers were zeroing in on Judy’s disappearance whenever they weren't occupied by other tasks, leaving them busier than they had ever been.

Then Christmas came and went, still with no sign of the rabbit. Nick had to wonder how her family felt about not knowing where their daughter and sister was on this day of all days. Rather distraught, he could safely assume, because he was feeling pretty down in the dumps himself. _Damn it, Carrots, just come home._

He got his wish once dear old Santa decided to belatedly gift them with the discovery of Judy on the day after Christmas, at 2 in the morning. She was in Tundra Town, looking so frail and not at all like the lively rabbit she once was. Having been buried underneath the snow, she remained unspotted for the past 2 weeks until one passerby was keen enough to notice what looked to be a rabbit ear sticking out from the white sheet on the ground.

 _Happy holidays, Nick,_ the fox couldn't help but grimly think to himself when he arrived onto the crime scene. _You'll definitely be remembering this one for a while._ Stepping out of the car that Francine let him ride with her, he took a deep breath, emotionally preparing himself for what he might see. He approached the scene and saw his partner.

Maybe he should've worn something more than a scarf over his police uniform, because numbness suddenly overtook him. Strange, he didn't _feel_ cold…

Chief Bogo noticed that he was frozen to his spot, staring down at the deceased. “You can let us handle this part,” he told his subordinate with as much stoicism as he could muster. “I think you need to sit down for a bit.”

Nick didn't argue, and he hurried over to a nearby bench, head suddenly woozy. He groaned, sitting down and grabbing his head. He had to admit, he did think of the possibility that things were going to turn out this way, especially after the first few days of Judy being gone. Why didn't anyone find her right away? What did she do to deserve to have her body lie underneath the snow for over 2 weeks straight, alone and unhelped? What did she deserve death in the first place?

He wondered if she knew what was happening to her during her last few seconds alive. Was she awake or unconscious? Nick didn't know which was worse; just the thought of both scenarios made him nauseous.

 _Stupid Carrots._ Honestly, she was such an idiot for letting herself die. Did she never take into consideration how her coworkers and friends would feel? How her family would feel? How _he_ would feel?

He began recounting her last hours, those last few minutes that he spent with her. _God, he shouldn't have let her go like that._ He should've insisted -- no, forced her to come with him and Finnick. But he didn't. Instead, he left her to her own devices, what with the murder cases and--

_The murder cases._

He whipped out his phone, looking at her last text for what could've possibly been the billionth time. _“I think I hit something. Something big. I'll tell you about it in the morning.”_ She had a lead. A lead that led her to death.

Without realizing it, he emitted a low growl. She finally found something, she was finally on the right track, and how was she repaid? With a visit from the Grim Reaper.

Amelia, Robert, and Holly all died from strangulation, which was quickly followed by a shallow grave. The modus operandi was the same for all three animals. All three small prey animals. Judy was a small prey animal. Nick didn't need an autopsy to tell him how she died.

The next morning, the air in the station was tense, with even Clawhauser looking rather saddened by the turn of events. Of course he was, because he was Clawhauser, who was one of the sweetest and most caring animals in the precinct, and she was Judy, a passionate bunny whose ambition touched the hearts of everyone she met. Including Nick’s, even though he didn't always show it.

The autopsy was completed on the morning of the 28th, and not to anyone’s surprise, the cause of death was confirmed to be asphyxiation from strangulation. They sent her body back home that afternoon to Bunnyburrow, where her family intended to bury her. They invited all of her fellow precinct officers to the funeral service on the 30th, and although Nick attended, he found himself wishing that he didn't once he got there. Would he be able to handle once again being so close to her dead body?

The answer was no. Once he saw the casket, it took all of his will and strength to not break down right there. Her parents asked if he, as her partner, wanted to speak. He declined, trying to keep the shakiness out of his voice.

He failed.

After the service was over, her father came over to sit next to him. After a few minutes of silence, Stu spoke.

“She wanted to be a cop ever since she was a little kit,” he began. “Bonnie and I thought she was crazy -- I mean, who would've thought that Judith Hopps from Bunnyburrow would actually end up being the world’s first bunny officer?”

Nick had to smile softly at that. “She really is -- _was_ something,” he caught himself slipping up.

“Tell me about it,” Stu exhaled. “She exceeded everyone’s expectations, and we were so proud when she graduated from the police academy. But her mother and I still didn't really want her to have this life, especially once we realized that she was going to be on her own, hours away from us. We were afraid something might happen to her, you know?”

Nick cringed when he heard that. If Stu noticed, he didn't say anything, instead opting to look up at the ceiling of the chapel.

“And, obviously, something did. But the funny thing is, none of us really regret letting her go off into the world in the end. She was happy with the way she was helping people, and there was no way she’d go back to carrot farming once she got a taste of it. I don't think she’d want us to feel like we should've made her stay here, where it's much safer.” His eyes refocused on Nick. “In fact, I’m sure that during her last moments, she didn't regret one single bit of it.”

Nick didn't respond. He couldn't respond. A few seconds passed by with neither of them saying anything, and then Nick got up from his seat. “I'll make sure I catch who did this to your daughter, Mr. Hopps.”

“I sure hope so. And Officer?” Nick, who had already started making his way down the aisle towards the door, turned back, and was greeted with Stu’s hardened eyes. “Don't go easy on the punk. If they get away with this, I might just find them and kill them for this.”

“That won't be necessary,” was all Nick said before turning and walking towards the door again. Muttering under his breath, he added, “It'll be a miracle if I don't do that myself.”


	2. smoothness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way / Still I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday." ~Fall Out Boy

He resumed working the murders the very next day. Bogo assigned Fangmeyer as his new partner on the case, saying that if Nick did this alone, he would “end up just like Hopps.” It made sense, but at the same time, he didn't really fit the killer’s criteria for a victim. Because the last time he checked, he wasn't considered prey.

 

“It's not about you fitting in with the criteria, it's about you potentially risking your life by finding out too much,” Bogo told him patiently. “I think that was the main reason why Hopps is now six feet under, not because our perp figured she would've made a good vic.”

 

Oh. It was probably a good idea to keep the tigress around then.

 

Fangmeyer had a similar reaction to his own once he brandished all of Judy’s extra notes. She whistled, “That entire stack is about half her height.”

 

“Did you expect anything less from her?” Nick asked pointedly. Before she could answer, he continued, “Let’s get started. We have to hurry, before this killer decides that they want to tear someone else away from their friends and family.”

 

They were going to catch this perp. They were going to catch this _asshole_ who thought they could get away with murdering Judy, and he was going to _make the son of a bitch pay_ —

 

Fangmeyer had to tell him that the thirst for revenge was beginning to show on his face. Oops.

 

They started off with the basics. First was the profiling.

 

“There’s no guarantee, but we’re probably looking for a pred. A lot of murders that are committed against prey tend to happen because some predator out there yearns for that old instinct,” Fangmeyer explained. “They’re fascinated by the idea that our ancestors killed other animals, and they want to experience it for themselves. Psychologically, knowing that they’re physically capable of snuffing out someone else’s life makes them feel more powerful. _Superior._ ” After a brief pause, she added, “To be completely honest, it’s super insulting towards all of us more normal-minded predators. We already have to deal with that lingering fear that Bellwether left imprinted, and these guys are just making it worse.”

 

Nick nodded in agreement. Another reason to get this scum off the streets.

 

They soon moved on to every animal that had been interviewed up to that point, including the ones that Judy had sought out on her own time. Most of them had quickly been quickly eliminated as suspects, though there were a few that stood out -- including one jackal by the name of Timothy Canineson.

 

(Why did Nick feel like he had seen him on the streets before?)

 

Having been spotted lurking in the area where Holly died shortly before her body turned up, he had been brought in for questioning, and his nervous demeanor had done little to shift the suspicion off of him. Judy and Nick had let him leave, but they both quickly agreed that he was someone that they needed to keep on their radar. _Especially_ after they looked him up in the system and found an extensive history of drug dealing.

 

(Huh. So that was why.)

 

Canineson was definitely not pleased to see that Nick was now knocking at his door at 8 in the morning asking for him to repeat his alibi for the night of Holly’s murder.

 

“I told you guys,” Canineson grumbled, obviously having been sleeping before Nick showed up. “I was at home.”

 

“Was anyone with you that night?”

 

Canineson rolled his eyes, now less apprehensive and a whole lot more irritable. Definitely was not a morning person. “Like I said before, no. What, you guys running out of suspects? Not sure what to do next?”

 

This guy was really beginning to get on Nick’s nerves, but he masked his annoyance with one of his usual smirks. “Listen, Tim. I’m going to be completely honest with you, okay? Predator to predator, vulpine to canine.” Seeing Canineson raise an eyebrow, he continued, “I’m not saying you’re guilty, but I’m not saying you’re innocent either. You know why? Because your alibi is, for lack of a better word, shit. And while I’m at it, so is your attitude. So if you want your name to be cleared more quickly, you might as well be more cooperative. That way, you and I will both be happier, got it?”

 

Canineson sneered in response. “Look, _Officer_ , don’t think that you can act all high-and-mighty just because you’re a cop now. You think I don’t know about your little stint as a con artist back then? Did the rabbit’s bullshit actually get to you?”

 

Judy was now mentioned, and Nick’s smarminess was gone. The smirk fell from his face, and his expression became stony.

 

Not noticing, Canineson went on tauntingly, “Too bad you’re on your own now, huh? Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be working on her murder instead of talking to me about the lamb’s?”

 

Suddenly, the smirk was back. “You have a point.”

 

Canineson wasn’t expecting that. “...I do?”

 

“Sure,” Nick said amicably, turning to leave. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Canineson.”

 

That night, Timothy Canineson was kidnapped near the entrance of his apartment complex, taken to a certain Mr. Big’s estate, and dangled directly above the shrew’s icy torture chamber until he was reduced to a blubbering mess on the floor, tearfully insisting that he was innocent and knew nothing about the murder cases.

 

Word of this incident ended up tracing back to Bogo, and Nick found himself sitting in his office, on the receiving end of another one of the buffalo’s angry tirades.

 

“—a complete disregard of all other interrogation techniques, and not to mention, you got a _crime boss_ to assist you!” Bogo finally finished, ire laced in his voice.

 

Nick wondered how Bogo would react if he ever found out about that one time he and Judy got Weaselton to confess his part in the Night Howler case. “You know, sir, Mr. Big was actually very fond of Officer Hopps; I wouldn’t say he’s above threatening any of our suspects on his own if he found out who they were.”

 

Bogo took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, and then exhaled. “One, Timothy Canineson is an _animal of interest_ , not a suspect -- and yes, there’s a bigger difference than you think!” he quickly added when he saw Nick raising a finger and opening his mouth to argue. “Two, you interrogated him about _Holly Sheepster’s_ murder, not Hopps’. Three, that’s not what you told Fangmeyer!”

 

 _Snitch._ Well, Nick supposed that telling the tigress -- whom he barely knew outside of work -- about his connections and how he used them for Canineson wasn’t his best moment.

 

“Okay, so maybe I _suggested_ the icing thing,” he grudgingly confessed. “But to be completely fair, he activated my bitch mode.”

 

“Your bitch mode.”

 

“He was being very rude, and I personally think that it should be illegal for someone like a drug dealer to give a cop that kind of attitude.”

 

“You and I both know that wasn’t why you did this, Wilde.”

 

Nick didn’t say anything.

 

Bogo interpreted his silence as an admission. “He said something about Hopps, didn’t he?”

 

“ _He made fun of her death._ ”

 

“What'd you expect from a guy like him, a list of all of his favorite things about cops like her?”

 

“Someone needed to teach him to never speak ill of the dead!”

 

“Wilde, criminals hating us is part of the _job_. It doesn't matter if we’re alive or dead; they hate us either way.”

 

“Well, it shouldn't be that way!”

 

Bogo sighed. “You sound just like her.”

 

Nick knew he did. Maybe Judy’s personality rubbed off on him a little too much. Or maybe, deep down, he just needed to sound like her -- that way, it at least _kind of_ felt like she was still with him.

 

“Anyway, now that we’re on the subject, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about,” Bogo finally said, after a few heavy moments of neither of them saying anything. “It's you. Ever since Hopps died, you've changed.”

 

_“This whole thing has changed you. You're not the same as you were 9 months ago.”_

 

_“I know that already. I'm sorry. It's just that… You can understand why this case gets to me, can't you?”_

 

Remembering his last conversation with Judy, Nick asked Bogo, “So what, are you saying that I should just go back to being the guy I was? Like she doesn't matter to me at all?”

 

“No, I'm saying that you shouldn't let what happened to her consume you.”

 

“It's not.”

 

“See, if you told me that before the situation with Canineson, I might've believed you.”

 

“That's not relevant.”

 

“Yes, it is!” Bogo’s patience suddenly reached its end, and he slammed a fist down on his table. “You would never have been this brutal if she were still here!”

 

Nick stayed quiet, and Bogo uncalled his fist. “She was my partner,” the fox suddenly said quietly, “and my friend.”

 

“She was one of my officers.”

 

“That's not the same.”

 

“But it makes it personal for me, too,” Bogo told him firmly. “It's personal for all of us. You don't kill a cop and then expect the rest of us to take it lying down.”

 

“Then let me catch the murderer, sir. I'll give her the justice she deserves.”

 

“I can assure you right now, Wilde, the ‘justice’ you're thinking of isn't justice. It's revenge.” When Nick didn't retort, he continued, “All I'm asking of you is to not go after this perp because they're Hopps’ killer. Go after them because they're _a_ killer.” He sighed. “Now get out of my office. I better not hear about any other animals getting threatened by you and your questionable connections, or I'm taking you off the case.”

 

_Damn it._

 

Nick found Fangmeyer sitting at her desk, reviewing Robert’s case file. Sipping her coffee, she looked up. “How mad was he?” she asked him.

 

Nick ignored the question, instead shooting one of his own. “You told on me?”

 

Fangmeyer rolled her eyes, setting her coffee down. “What you did with Canineson was seriously worrying, so how could I not?”

 

“Bogo said he was going to remove me from the case if I did that again.”

 

“That's to be expected.”

 

“I didn't need him to start breathing down my neck about this, okay? The media’s been doing enough of that ever since they found out about Amelia.”

 

“What’d be worse is if the media ever finds out that you used a crime boss’s intimidation tactics to try to force a confession out of a genuinely innocent individual.”

 

“He's a drug dealer.”

 

“And you're a former con artist, which only makes you slightly better than him.” She ignored the way Nick narrowed his eyes at her.

 

“I'll have you know that con artists don't—”

 

“Look, are we going to review the cases today or not?” Fangmeyer cut him off before he could defend himself any further. “And if we need to re-interview anyone, I'll be the one doing it.”

 

Nick behaved himself after that incident, if only because he didn't want Bogo to declare him unfit to work the murders. Instead, he distracted himself by overloading himself with the information and evidence that had been collected, so he wouldn't think about Judy’s death too much and lose his composure.

 

(It'd be bad if he lost his composure. Man, what an un-Nick thing that would be.)

 

He didn't really know how deeply he was burying himself in his duties until several months later, when Finnick called his cell one night.

 

“What's up?” Nick put his friend on speaker, as he continued rereading Judy’s notes.

 

“Do you wanna go out sometime soon?” the smaller fox’s voice emitted from the other side, filling up Nick’s small bedroom.

 

“Uh… We’ll see.” Nick glanced skeptically at Finnick’s icon before going back to his file. “To be honest, I've been pretty busy with work and stuff, but maybe? I'll try to find a good time.”

 

“You've been busy ever since the rabbit died, Nick.”

 

Nick held back a groan. _“You've been…ever since Judy…”_ It was almost like a mantra, repeated by everyone he knew, about how much he'd changed since her death. It was understandable why he'd be sick of it by now.

 

“I know your stuff’s important, but come on,” Finnick was saying. “I don't exactly stalk you and your work, so I might be wrong, but it's starting to sound super unhealthy. You need a break.”

 

_“Judy, I know this case is important and all, but I think you really do need a break.”_

 

Nick sighed. “Maybe I do…”

 

_“Nick, please. Just let me work on this. I'm so close to figuring out the truth, I can feel it.”_

 

“...but as each day goes by, the killer is one day closer to striking again. And I can't let that happen.”

 

He could almost feel the rolling of Finnick’s eyes on the other end. “Has anyone ever told you that you're starting to turn into the rabbit?”

 

“More than you think.”

 

“Look,” Finnick finally replied after a moment of hesitation. “Your mom called me.”

 

“What?” That made Nick sit up. “When?”

 

“A few days ago. I didn't want to tell you, since I'd feel like I was guilt-tripping you, but you need to hear it.”

 

Nick waited.

 

“She was all depressed that you haven't contacted her recently. Apparently, it's been _weeks_ , and you used to call her every few days. She tried calling you, but you never picked up, so she ended up venting to me about it. Do something about that, will ya?”

 

Come to think of it, Nick did notice that he had a couple of missed calls from his mother here and there, but he didn't bother to call back, because each time, he promised himself he'd call back the following morning (which he never did, in the end). Eventually, it just slipped from his mind, and before he knew it, so much time had passed.

 

“I guess I should call her then,” Nick responded, feeling a little guilty about simply forgetting his own mother like that. “Thanks, Finn. I'll try to find a time to hang out.”

 

“Whatever,” Finnick grumbled before hanging up.

 

Nick called his mother the next morning, apologizing for not having any contact whatsoever lately, which was completely unintentional, and no, he wasn't trying to cut her out of his life like he tried to do back when he was nineteen and an idiot. He promised that he would make up for the lost time once he was done with the murder cases.

 

“How long is that going to take?” His mother didn’t sound too pleased to know that he was putting work before her.

 

“A couple of weeks? A month, maybe? Or two?” Nick cringed at his reply.

 

_Smooth, Wilde._

 

But a month came and went, and he still wasn’t any closer to finding out who the killer was. By then, he was struggling to keep his normally cool head on his shoulders, knowing that each passing day meant that the perp was one day closer to taking their next vic.

 

And now here he is, exactly a year after Amelia’s death, reviewing certain pieces of evidence for the billionth time, trying hopelessly to spot something that he somehow missed before. Suddenly losing patience, he pushes everything aside, slamming his head against his desk and sending a few papers flying.

 

“Why. Am. I. So. Useless. At. My. Job?!” He punctuates each word with an additional plop of the head. “I’m an absolute failure as a cop!”

 

“Just because you can’t figure out who the killer is? If you follow that logic, we’re all failures then,” Fangmeyer chimes in from across him.

 

Nick raises his head momentarily to glare at her. “If we knew half of what Judy knew, this sicko would’ve been off the streets months ago.”

 

“But we don’t,” Fangmeyer says simply. “Which is why we’re working so hard now.”

 

“Yeah, well, our supposed ‘hard work’ doesn’t even seem to be paying off,” Nick snaps at her irritably. “I’m here losing sleep over this whole thing, but all I’m doing is proving to myself and the public that I can’t live up to my dead partner’s name.”

 

“That’s debatable,” Fangmeyer mumbles.

 

Nick picks up on that. “What?”

 

“You both share the same resolve,” the tigress explains. “That’s not exactly something that you see in every cop. You two uncovered the Bellwether scandal, and now there’s this serial killer. Judy devoted her entire life to catching whoever they are, and now you’re doing the same.” She briefly pauses, then continues after a moment of hesitance, “Nobody else here at the ZPD is that determined, myself included. I honestly would’ve moved on from this case a long time ago if I weren't stuck with you.”

 

Nick ponders over her words, before shaking his head. “No,” he disagrees quietly. “My ‘resolve’ is different from hers. She wanted to catch this perp because of what they did to those three. I'm just…” He heaves a sigh. “I'm just going after them because of what they did to _her_.”

 

 _“All I'm asking of you is to not go after this perp because they're Hopps’ killer. Go after them because they're_ a _killer.”_

 

It feels like ages since Bogo spoke those words to him, but no matter how hard he tries, he’s unable to view this animal as anything other than Judy’s murderer. Not Amelia’s, not Robert’s, not Holly’s, but only Judy’s. He conceals this poorly; every now and then he still catches the buffalo giving him pointed stares as if to remind him to not lose control of himself. Odd, since he’s usually so good at masking his true feelings. Judy really did get to him.

 

Fangmeyer doesn’t respond to his words. An awkward silence fills in between them, and Nick proceeds to weigh all of the possible ways he can change the subject. He’s about to ask her about the baseball game on Sunday when Clawhauser suddenly bursts in.

 

“Guys,” the cheetah pants, clearly trying to catch his breath from running all the way from the front desk. “We just got another call. You're not going to like this.”

 

* * *

 

 Once Nick gets back home, he immediately slumps to the floor, his back propped up against his front door. Burying his face into his paws, he tries hard to forget about the day’s events.

 

 _“Aw, it’s a kid,”_ _Fangmeyer commented sadly as the two of them gazed down at the fresh corpse found in an alley downtown. A ligature mark was evident around the little jackrabbit’s neck. “What is wrong with this world?”_

 

_Nick had no words. Speechlessness seemed to happen to him a lot more often ever since this whole murder spree began; that’s what happens when you deal with a situation with this many twists and turns. But this time, he truly was frozen with... what, exactly? Was it anger? No. Was it grief? Not exactly. Was it devastation? Close, but still no._

 

_“Looks like our little killer’s gotten another one,” Fangmeyer was continuing grimly. “You think that they’re monstrous enough already, but then they go ahead and do it to a poor, innocent child like this…”_

 

_Closer examination revealed that this young hare wasn’t as young as Fangmeyer was making him out to be. ID showed that he was actually a 16-year-old by the name of Allen Cottontail -- not exactly a “child,” but definitely not an adult._

 

_Yes, he was 8 years younger than Judy was. Yes, he was a completely different species from her. But there was something about him -- some sort of uncanny, implicit resemblance -- that reminded Nick of her so much. Maybe it was the way that they both lay there helplessly. Maybe it was the way that Allen obviously fought off his killer, judging from the amount of defensive wounds on his body -- something that brought to mind Judy’s own spunk and courage._

 

 _Nick couldn’t bring himself to step closer to the body. Much like that night Judy was found, he clammed up, and despite his brain desperately trying to give orders to the rest of his body to_ move _, he remained rigid. Even when he noticed Fangmeyer and some of the other ZPD officers continue to process the crime scene, he was stuck in that one spot, drowning in his own thoughts._

 

_He had failed. He had promised Judy during her funeral that he’d catch the murderer before he struck again, but now young Allen lay a few feet in front of him, his life abruptly cut short by some psychopath who took pleasure in bringing tragedy. All because Nick was too slow, too incompetent. Was the killer mocking him? Today was the one-year anniversary of Amelia Nuttberg’s murder. Was the killer, realizing that Nick was struggling with the case, taunting Nick for not being a good enough cop to catch them?_

 

Nick lifts his head and hurriedly wipes his eyes, even though there’s no one else that can see him right now. He can’t cry, he just _can’t._ He didn’t cry when Judy died, he didn’t cry when his stress was getting the better of him, and he certainly isn’t going to cry now. He’s Nick Wilde, and Nick Wilde doesn’t cry.

 

But he is. He releases a sob that he’s been holding back for who knows how long, and that just leads to more tears and sniffles than he’s had in _years_ but oh god he doesn’t care about any of that right now and it’s so weird because he never _not_ cares about keeping it together but all he can do right now is just weep and weep and _weep_ and maybe he’ll just forget about this one moment of weakness once morning comes and he’ll just go back to the way he was before and just bury himself in this stupid case again and deal with all of the new evidence but what if he just keeps on failing and this lunatic just takes more people because he _just isn’t as brilliant of a cop as Judy and all he’ll do is disappoint everyone and never give them back their sense of security--_

 

The next thing Nick knows, it’s morning. He wakes, a little dazed from the episode he had last night, and discovers that he's still flopped against his door in his uniform, never having made it to his bed.

 

He lightly slaps his face, making some of the grogginess go away. He decides he may as well get himself cleaned up, as well as (after heavy consideration on whether he should even show up to work today because _goddamn_ he sure isn't feeling up to it) don on his spare uniform.

 

Before he steps foot into the shower, he puts both paws on his bathroom counter and stares at himself _hard_ in the mirror. His eyes are red and puffy, and he looks like he's somehow aged an extra 10 years overnight. He cringes. He can already _see_ those unwanted glances of pity he's going to receive from the other officers because _wow poor Wilde this case has been especially hard on him_ and _why can't Bogo just reassign him or something and give him a break_. That simply won't do.

 

Once he's done and ready to step out of the house, he hides his features behind his usual pair of sunglasses and takes a detour to the local Stagbucks on his way to work. Sipping his coffee, he enters the precinct, not that eager to begin another long day of chasing down useless leads and ridiculous theories.

 

“Morning, Nicky!” Clawhauser beams at him from his desk, looking more cheerful than he has in a while. “Ready for a new day?”

 

Nick can't help but raise his eyebrows at how uncharacteristically lighthearted Clawhauser is being. Because of the cheetah’s loving nature, every crime that he hears about dampens his mood, especially if it’s something as heinous as murder. He was affected deeply by Judy’s death, and with the new dead body discovered yesterday, it just doesn’t make sense that he appears so carefree this particular morning. Nick shrugs it off though. If Clawhauser’s happy, then he isn’t going to question it.

 

Clawhauser loses his smile once he gets a closer look at the fox. “Hey, you okay? You look like you had a rough night.”

 

 _Shit._ Even when he’s hiding behind sunglasses, Nick still looks like crap. “Yeah, I just… I didn’t sleep well. But I’ll be fine.”

 

“If you say so,” Clawhauser shrugs. “By the way, the chief said that he has a new case for you. It sounds like it’s something pretty big, just a little heads-up.”

 

 _A new case?_ Nick can’t have a new case; he obviously isn’t done with his current one. If the buffalo thinks that he needs to take a break on finding the serial killer, then the fox sure as hell isn’t going to stand for this. But still, there’s something about Clawhauser’s words that give him a sense of deja vu. He could’ve sworn that he’s had this exchange with him on the day that he and Judy were assigned to investigate Amelia’s murder...

 

Nick is lost in his thoughts as he makes his way past the lobby and to his cubicle. He takes a big sip of his coffee as he approaches his desk, getting ready to toss his cup into the trash bin.

 

As he enters the cubicle, he hears the familiar squeak that signifies the swiveling of a chair, and he turns to the source of the sound.

 

He expects it to be Fangmeyer.

 

“Hey, Nick!” an enthusiastic voice greets him.

 

It’s a voice that he hasn’t heard in months.

 

Judy’s sitting there, and she looks just the way he remembers her.

 

As for him, he spits out his coffee, then promptly makes a dash for the restroom, slamming the door behind him.

  
_Yup, Wilde. Smooth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahahahahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA you guys probably thought I abandoned this thing but nOPE I'm just really shit at updating regularly because I'm a huge procrastinator
> 
> but yes judy is officially back and you guys are probs confused like "wait what the fuck just happened" but don't worry things will (hopefully) begin to make more sense once the next chapter comes along
> 
> speaking of the next chapter I guess I'm not too sure when that'll be out??? because now that the actual plot of this pic is kicking off, that means I need to start planning out what happens some more (I have bits and pieces of what I want to happen but not the full picture if you get what I mean)
> 
> also did you guys notice how I switched from past tense to present tense in the middle of the chapter? yeah that's because everything that's written in past tense is considered to be stuff that happened that led up to where nick is now, if that makes any sense. present tense just indicates that we're caught up in nick's little dilemma and we're with him as he tries to squirm his way out of it oh who the fuck am I kidding I'm not making any fucking sense.
> 
> (tl;dr time is a very important theme in this fanfic so I figured I could play around with the tenses haha fml)
> 
> see you guys in the next chapter

**Author's Note:**

> lmao k so like to let y'all know I think proper sentence structure is overrated so these author's notes aren't going to be nearly as eloquent as anything that's part of this actual story just so we're clear
> 
> strange first chapter huh? so this is a story that I came up with after I watched that anime erased/boku dake ga inai machi so if you're familiar with it then you should know that judy isn't going to stay dead so yay nick won't be sad for long (I'm not that cruel come on)
> 
> anyway I can't exactly promise quick updates because I want to put as much effort as I can into this fic, which means a lot of thorough planning and multiple rereads, but hopefully I do have the motivation to continue this to the end! and so far my juices are overflowing so I don't think inspiration is going to die down any time soon
> 
> (btw this is my first time posting on ao3 am I doing it right so far?)
> 
> see you guys when I post the next chapter *twirls out*


End file.
